


The Bancroft Bloodline

by Prender



Series: Breaker of Curses, Dueler of Knights [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26210245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prender/pseuds/Prender
Summary: A series of one-shots exploring how Jacob Bancroft comes to terms with the fact that time hadn't stood still while he was gone, and that his little sister is no longer the bright-eyed, innocent girl he left behind.
Relationships: Jacob & Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery)
Series: Breaker of Curses, Dueler of Knights [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901170
Kudos: 14





	The Bancroft Bloodline

Jacob Bancroft considered himself quite good at making snap judgments.

He had to be, in his line of work. In the world of curse-breaking, there was seldom time to carefully analyze every small aspect of a scene or situation. If action had to be taken, it had to be taken quickly. So, he learned to make his assessments in mere seconds, and deal with whatever the consequences may be later. As long as he got out of the main problem in one piece, he could worry about solving the others that may sprout up further down the line. It had become a bit of a habit.

So when he saw his little sister in that Vault, laying eyes on her for the first time in seven long years, he gave her the same perfunctory scan he gave everything else. She had grown taller, though not by much, and her face had yet to lose that youthful roundness. She was still growing her hair out; the flaxen locks were tied in a thick braid long enough for her to sit on. She was dressed in clothes unlike any he'd ever seen her wear—garments made of thick leather, with a chest plate and a shoulder pad—but then, she was venturing into a Cursed Vault. Perhaps it was smart to dress for the occasion. Certainly better than tromping around in her Hogwarts robes. She was still wearing the locket he'd given her, all those years ago, the silver seashell resting against her sternum.

She hadn't changed a bit.

 _"Pip,"_ he breathed, hardly daring to believe it, and she whipped around to face him. The wave of emotion that seemed to hit her at the sight of him was enough to make her stumble back, hands flying to cover her mouth.

"Jacob!" she whimpered, and, recovering, ran over to the portrait. She pressed her palms against the canvas, and Jacob dropped down to his knees, lining his hands up with hers, wishing more than anything that he could grab them and soothe her. Goodness, her hands were still so small. Nellie looked up, and seeing him so close made her face crumple, tears pouring openly down her cheeks. She sobbed, and just like that, Jacob was thrown back to being seventeen, newly expelled and purposeless.

He'd hardly left his room since he'd been sent home. His mothers didn't seem to know how to talk to him, and he was sure they had been urging Nellie away from him as well. He could hear them at night, arguing downstairs when they thought he was asleep. They didn't know what to do with him. It was fair, he supposed. He didn't know quite what to do with himself either.

Then he'd gotten Rakepick's letter.

He had spent a long time grappling with the contents of that letter. Deep down, he'd known he shouldn't accept her offer. Working for her and her allies, it had brought only bloodshed. First poor, sweet Olivia. Then Duncan. Getting sent home could've been a chance to try and sever those ties, get his life back on a track that was normal and safe. But of course, Jacob couldn't accept a comfortable life. He wanted a life of glory. He wanted to be _powerful._ He'd been such a foolish boy.

He could still remember the way his bedroom door creaked as it opened, and the sound of Nellie's little voice calling his name from the doorway. She'd been only eight, then, so small and vulnerable. Too young to understand why his homecoming had brought frustration and anguish, rather than joy. She didn't understand the weight of his expulsion, or the conversations her mothers had that always seemed to die out when she walked in the room, or the reason her big brother had barely said a single word to her since he came home. All she understood was that she'd missed him while he was gone, and she wanted to spend time with him now that he was here.

All she had done was ask if she could show him her new doll, the one mama had stitched up just for her.

And he'd exploded. He'd screamed at her for everything that had gone wrong, and for nothing at all. He screamed at her for things that were not her doing. He screamed at her for not understanding, for daring to come into his room while he was thinking, for wasting his time. He'd screamed at her until his voice gave out, and only then did he turn to look at her, chest heaving and face red with exertion.

More than anything, he remembered the way she'd looked at him in that moment. Her face drained of color, and her shaking hands hugged to her chest. Her eyes wide and damp with tears, looking at him not only with fear, but with a complete lack of recognition. In that moment, gazing up at him, she didn't recognize her beloved brother at all, and Jacob knew it. His heart had immediately sunk into the pit of his stomach, but when he reached to try and comfort her, she'd burst into tears and ran away. She'd been afraid of him. No matter how hard he tried, Jacob couldn't seem to forget how terrible that felt. In that moment, he'd failed every responsibility afforded to him as an older brother. His quest for power had turned him into someone his baby sister couldn't trust. 

Starting his search for the Vaults was the biggest mistake of his life, but the second biggest mistake was undoubtedly the one he made that night: deciding that he wouldn't be able to put aside his quest—and become the sort of brother he wanted to be—until he'd succeeded. Once he found the Vaults, sating his curiosity and ridding him of his awful jealousy, he would finally be able to move on.

He'd left the very same night.

And look where that had gotten him. Trapped for years, without ever being able to amend the countless mistakes he had made. Look where it had gotten _Nellie,_ seemingly led down the same crooked path that he had walked, filled with the same anguish he'd forced upon her seven years ago.

That was _his little sister,_ sobbing on the other side of the portrait, bruised and shaking and so very vulnerable, and it was all his fault. Tears pricked at the back of Jacob's eyes, and he clenched his jaw, refusing to let himself break down. He was going to fix this. He was going to do right by her now, to make up for every time he had ever done her wrong. He tilted his head, trying to meet her eyes, and gave her the gentlest smile he could manage.

"It's alright, Pip. It's alright," he soothed, struggling to keep his voice steady. He glanced past her, to the column, and then met her gaze once more. "I need you to touch the column, okay? Then I'll be right there." Nellie looked over her shoulder at the column, like she'd forgotten it was there, then pulled away, wiping her nose with a small sniffle. 

"O-Okay. I-I got it." Nellie pushed back her shoulders, forcing herself to stand tall, and crossed over to the column, her every step weighted with purpose. She looked over her shoulder, back up at him—and pressed her hand against the column.

It felt as though air filled Jacob's lungs for the very first time, like he hadn't drawn a breath in years. He took a big gulp of it, of that brand new air, and fell through the the canvas like it was water. He landed on his feet, wobbling, and he barely had time to steady himself before Nellie launched herself into his arms. He almost dissolved, then, holding her so close and feeling her weight in his arms, but he pulled himself back together. She needed him. He couldn't break apart now.

"Let me look at you," Jacob whispered, planting his hands on Nellie's shoulders and pulling her back just enough to scan her over, one more time. He huffed a breathless laugh, shaking his head, then pressed a fervent kiss to her forehead. "God, Pip—you haven't changed a bit!" There was so much he wanted to say. He'd had seven years to plan everything he wanted to tell her, but in this critical moment, every carefully constructed sentence had fled his mind.

"You either," Nellie choked out, gazing up at him, before breaking down into another sob, "Oh, Jacob, I've—I've missed you. I've missed you so much." She shook her head, clinging desperately to his arms. "Everything's so twisted and wrong, it's all such a mess—" The relief that overwhelmed Jacob began to give away to unease, his brow furrowing. He was happier than anything that they were finally reunited, happier than anything that he was free... _but what was she doing here?_

"Hey, hey, shh," Jacob murmured, reaching with a shaking hand to smooth Nellie's hair back from her face, "Whatever's wrong, we can figure it out—"

"I'm sorry I didn't open the door!" Jacob paused, blinking at her a few times in confusion. Nellie wept, not even able to look him in the eye. "Th-The night you left. I didn't open the d-door. I'm so—I'm so sorry, Jacob!" Oh. _Oh._ That dreadful night, after he'd exploded and destroyed his family with the shrapnel of his rage, he'd tried to go and talk to her, to tell her he was sorry and reassure her that he was someone she could trust. But no matter how much he'd knocked, or how gently he spoke, Nellie hadn't responded, and she certainly hadn't opened the door. Had she been holding onto that, all these years?

"Nellie—" Before he could finish his sentence, however, the sound of oncoming feet made him spin towards the entryway, instinctively throwing out an arm to shield her. Two redheaded boys, one tall and lanky and the other short and stocky, raced in, both of them seeming to relax at the sight of Nellie. Still, Jacob didn't drop his arm. "Who're these two chaps, Pip?" Nellie sniffled, clumsily wiping at her face with the palms of her hands. The sight of them seemed to have jarred her back to the present, reminding her of the circumstances that had gotten her here. There was no time for tears.

"These are my friends, Bill and Charlie Weasley," she introduced, keeping her voice as steady as she could and stepping out around Jacob, branching the gap between them, "They helped me get here."

"Well, then they have my gratitude, that's for sure," Jacob responded in a frail attempt at levity, giving both boys a tight smile. They both stared, as though they couldn't quite believe what they were seeing.

"So, that's him?" the taller one asked, voice uncertain, "That's Jacob Bancroft?" Nellie turned towards him once more, her smile radiant in spite of the dampness of her eyes.

"That's Jacob Bancroft," she confirmed, voice soft with wonder, before the arrival of two more strangers, a boy and a girl, caught her attention. "Merula!" she gasped, darting over to the girl, who was leaning heavily on the boy, her face twisted in pain, "You should be resting!" On instinct, Jacob reached for his wand, a dozen healing spells on his tongue.

"What happened to her?"

"It was Rakepick," Nellie answered, voice growing tight as she wrapped one of the girl's arms around her shoulder, helping to prop her up, "She used the Cruciatus curse on her, we have to—"

"Rakepick?" Jacob interjected, eyes darkening, "She's _here?"_ That vile banshee. It was all falling into place now. Jacob had failed her, so she'd turned to the second best option. She'd _preyed_ on his little sister, used her the same way she'd used him, brought her here, into this place of unbelievable danger, to serve her own needs. 

"Well, no, not—not anymore," Nellie fumbled, caught off guard by the intensity of his voice, "She Disapparated—"

"Just now?" She wouldn't get away with this. He wouldn't let her. She'd taken his ambition and corrupted it. She had twisted him until he was unrecognizable, and disposed of his two only friends as soon as they were of no use to her. She had torn his family apart, ripped him away from them, and now she had turned her wicked gaze onto the _one person_ Jacob had wanted to protect above all. Jacob was going to take her down. He was going to turn her into ash, and ensure that she never sunk her claws into anyone else.

"Just a minute ago," the shorter redhead confirmed, glancing at Nellie, and Jacob gave a low growl.

"I have to go after her," he muttered, almost more to himself than to them, stalking past the group and pulling his wand from its sheath at his hip, "I might still be able to catch up with her, if I'm fast enough."

"Wait!" Nellie gasped, and in spite of himself, Jacob felt his expression soften as he turned to face her. "Take me with you," she pleaded, voice just about breaking, "I can help!" Jacob's chest tightened. She was such a noble girl. She had been since she was just a small child, always taking the blame for his missteps and shielding him from the worst of their mum's disappointment. 

"This is my fight," Jacob said gently, walking over and taking her round, young face in his hands, "It's too dangerous for you to get involved.

"You can't leave again! You _can't!"_ Nellie protested frantically, panic settling in her chest like a bird in a cage that was far too small, beating its wings against the bars, "I only just got you back! There's so much I need to ask you—"

"And there will be time later," Jacob stated firmly, leaning in to press one last kiss to Nellie's forehead, "I'll find you, Pip. I promise. And then we'll have all the time in the world." He pulled back, out of reach of Nellie's hands, reaching desperately for him. "Keep your head down, and stay safe," he commanded, looking steadily into her eyes, "I'll find you when this is all over." And with a loud pop, he was gone.

Fortunately, Jacob left just a minute too early to see Nellie break down entirely. He missed, by only a moment, Bill Weasley pulling her into his arms in a way not unlike Jacob had. Into an embrace not unlike that of an older brother.


End file.
